April Shower
by xSummonerYunax
Summary: Stuck together inside a broken vehicle in the middle of a thunderstorm, Chris and Jill find that there's only one way to break the sexual tension between them. Chris/Jill


**Disclaimer: Capcom owns Resident Evil and all its characters.**

* * *

><p>April Shower<p>

* * *

><p>"All right, thanks."<p>

Chris flipped his phone shut and stuffed it back into the pocket of his pants. Jill looked at him expectantly with beads of water dripping from her hair, trailing through the features that molded exhaustion, and running over her saturated S.T.A.R.S. uniform. He wished he could provide some good news, but she got the message when he threw his palms over his face and groaned, the tips of his fingers massaging his own weary eyes that had not gotten rest for more than twenty hours.

"We're stuck here, aren't we, Chris?"

"AAA said because of the weather and the time, it could take about an hour and a half to two hours for someone to get here."

He turned his head to the side and glanced out the window. Not a single person in sight and not a single sound of a vehicle within earshot besides them and his black Hummer. The rain's assault on his car was growing heavier, angrier, as streaks of lightning burst through the darkness, the electric sparks plummeting downward like sickly, spindly fingers ready to pluck someone from the ground. That was what how Jill Valentine saw lightning. As a child, she was scared that those white and blue monstrous 'claws' would come and snatch her, and she'd disappeared forever with the flash. Chris burst into laughter the first time he told her, and even now he could not contain his amusement, for he knew that eighteen years later, that fear had not completely gone away.

He smiled as thunder roared above them. "Don't worry, you're safe in here."

"You're lucky I'm more concerned about freezing to death right now," she mumbled, her arms crossed, palms rapidly rubbing skin to generate warmth.

His grin quickly fell. They were driving back from an out-of-town conference and had expected to reach Raccoon in another hour when the Hummer suddenly broke down on a deserted road near the outskirts of the city. They had gotten out of the car and stepped into the downpour to check for the problem but could not locate it. Chris then decided to call the AAA for assistance. With the car issue out of the way, he was faced with another, one that involved their health and could not be fixed so easily. He wished he had brought a jacket along, but the morning news predicted excellent weather. Along with his weapons and protective gear, he decided to lose the issued-vest and come with just the shirt and pants of his uniform, a decision he now regretted making.

His own chills were now beginning to infiltrate his skin, aiming to penetrate the bones, but it was Jill he was worried about. Her cotton ribbed shirt was much thinner and short-sleeved, and without her thick shoulder pads, she appeared deceivingly more fragile.

"If only there was a blanket…" she said, her lips now quivering.

_Blanket…_

Her wish triggered a memory that would fulfill it. "I think I may have one in the trunk," he told her, excitement rising in his voice. "Christmas present from Claire. We're running out of ideas."

He unlocked the door and was already outside before she could comment. Walking to the back of the car felt like trudging through a frigid waterfall. With his unsteady, cold fingers, he shoved the key into the lock of the trunk door and was greeted by the splendid sight of a white fleece blanket embellished with cartoon reindeers and mistletoes—a last minute, handmade gift. _Thanks, Sis. _Surprisingly, it had just become the most useful present she had ever given him. Scooping the blanket into his arm, he slammed the door down and ran back into the vehicle, all too eager to lock the terrible storm out.

The seat beside him was empty. Jill had moved to the back, and as he handed her the blanket, he resisted the urge to turn his head completely around when his fingertips brushed against her shoulder that was now bare save for a thin strap over it.

"Thanks Chris." She accepted the blanket with clattering teeth and made no comment about the silly choice of decoration. However, her delight in receiving the source of warmth was vocalized in a playful teasing. "No peeking."

The sound of a zipper being undone tripled in volume in his ears, but he kept his eyes dutifully trained on the steering wheel, ignoring the screams in his mind that told him to take a quick, harmless glance in the rear-view mirror. The seconds that ticked by were agonizingly stretched and seemed even more prolonged against the swift tempo of his heartbeats. When the noises finally ceased, he slowly released the breath he had been holding.

"God, I'm so wet," Jill muttered.

She was either oblivious that her innocent admission was becoming totally distorted in his mind, or purposely tantalizing him for her own amusement. He would have taken the hint if it was from another female, but Jill Valentine was difficult to read. They flirted every now and then, as the vibe in the S.T.A.R.S. office was generally laidback when Wesker wasn't around, but he always made sure to not cross any boundaries. He was beginning to see her as more than just a partner. Jill was a friend, a very good friend—and there weren't many people Chris considered to be his very good friends.

And because of that, he had gotten a little overprotective of her, did not want her watching her own back all the time anymore. But tonight, she was not making things easy for him, and he was afraid that the only person he should protect her from was himself.

Assuming that she was linking her state to the rain, Chris nodded in agreement as he tried to stifle a shiver.

"Chris?" Jill whispered, weaving a familiar meekness into his name. He knew that tone and when she used it. It meant she either wanted to make a request he would not want to agree to, or was concerned about him but was hesitant on approaching him about her worries. "You know, you should take your clothes off too or else you're going to get sick." She paused the same time his body froze. As always, she knew just how to give impetus to further amplify his bewilderment. "And…you should join me back here, to stay warm."

She was _really _not making this easy for him.

Any man would like the sound of where this was going, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't eager to obey her order to keep the momentum of this opportunity rolling. His rationality had a habit of kicking in at all the wrong times, but he had never once come to regret what he had stopped himself from doing. As much as he wanted to use this chance to prove that speculation otherwise, he heard his sound reasoning crying to him, desperate to be heard, to speak for Jill Valentine because it did not believe she could speak for herself. He wasn't sure how much alcohol she had consumed during dinner. He knew her tolerance was quite high, and so he had not been worried then. There had been no reason to.

"Jill, you're not-"

"I'm not drunk," she confirmed with a chuckle. "A little loosened up, but not drunk."

Nevertheless, he promised himself that he would still remain cautious. Thinking it was safe to see her again, his eyes found her reflection in the rear-view mirror. Both of her long legs were curled on the seat, one above the other, tucked beneath the blanket's flare as the rest of the material wrapped over her body like a towel, pinched closed by unseen hands at the valley of her breasts. The spread was longer than he'd thought, leaving so little to the sight but so much to the imagination.

"Come on," she insisted again. "Don't make me come over there."

_She would really do it._

His fingers had already reached the buttons, the first one becoming undone, before he could reconsider what he would be diving into. With the knowledge of what could happen, the air around him felt heavier, tension wildly ricocheting off the walls of the tiny enclosed space like a little rubber ball with infinite bounces. Maybe it was just him. Jill appeared calm, relaxed against the cushion as she watched him.

"No peeking," he joked, attempting to bring some semblance of equilibrium back into the car.

Her giggle helped a bit, the sweet burst of mirth easing some of his anxiety. "Fine…"

She turned toward the window just as he reached the last button. Though she could not see, it was obvious from the shuffling that he was taking off his shirt. He tossed the drenched piece of clothing on the shotgun seat, his hands working to unfasten his belt next. His eyes never left the mirror. She was pretty good at not letting her sight wander, but the slightest of rotations in her neck and shoulder could now be detected and brought a grin to his face. The pants slipped to his ankles, and he quickly removed his socks and boots before throwing the entire clump with his shirt. All that was left on him were just his navy boxers.

"You're cruel, you know that?" She faced forward again, shifting over to make room for an additional person.

"Just being fair," he stated, turning halfway around to see how much room he was going to need to climb to the back. Luckily, the gap between the two front seats was wide enough for him to fit through. He carefully stuck his right leg over first and made sure his foot was properly rooted on the floor before awkwardly shifting the left one across. Overestimating his balance, he released his hands from the headrests too soon and fell forward, his face and chest crashing into the padding first.

Jill snickered, but as soon as he flipped over on his back and sat upright, the amusement faded. Her eyes flitted between his chest and a piece of gum wrapper by his toe. Doubting that there was anything interesting about the latter, Chris was torn between 'showing off' and being as modest as possible. Jill's reaction was certainly feeding his confidence, and it made him feel better for staying all those extra hours at the gym.

Deciding to take advantage of his self-assurance, he spread his arms out, letting nothing obstruct her view. "Like what you see?" In his head, the line was much stronger and did not sound like a meek question desperate for approval. Lately, he was becoming more open and nervous, careful and reckless around her. She made him think things over twice, believe in and doubt himself and his decisions because they no longer affected him alone. His life had always been difficult and stressful, and while Jill added to the complications at times, she also brought him a comfort he missed terribly after his parents' deaths.

Her lips moved to form an answer. When none came, she unfurled a part of the blanket—the motion so quick that he was not able to catch even a tiny glimpse of skin—and tossed it in his face.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, lowering the cloth to his chin, catching the nervous twinkle in her eyes that spoke what she could not confess with words—and the answer was better than what he had hoped. "At least _you _got to see something."

He did not miss the pink shade that began to paint her cheek, the blush even more noticeable when she tried to hide it with the turn of her head. As much as he was enjoying the response, he decided to back down, fearing that the suggestive humor might pressure her into doing something she was not comfortable with. But when he followed the sharp pivot of her gaze, he also got to see something that made him feel just as flustered, but unlike Jill's blood that flowed to the surface of her face, his flooded in the opposite direction, right between his legs.

In the corner of the floor, on top of the pile of discarded clothes, was a dark purple bra with black laces joining the hook and the splay cups. His eyes obeyed the dirty thoughts in his mind and struggled in the dark to see if she had shed the bottom half of her lingerie.

"It's still on, if that's what you're wondering about," she said, her hair shrouding the emergence of a mischievous smile she was all too willing to flash him seconds later.

He could lie, _should _lie, no matter how unbelievable it was going to sound. "Actually, I wasn't."

He should have known that she always saw through his deceit. Her head tilted to the side, the grin expanding as she silently challenged him to come up with an elaboration he could not craft. But her entire playful façade of boldness disappeared with a sudden brilliant illumination chased by an eruption in the sky. Cold fingers wrapped around his bicep as her body's trembles of fright produced shivers of excitement rolling down his spine. To alleviate her anxiety and his own, he wrapped his arms around her, inviting her into the only protection and consolation he could give. He had never held her to provide solace. Words were always enough when they talked in person or over the phone because neither asked for anything more, and there was never a need for intimate physical contact. But embracing her to relieve even an insignificant worry was a feeling he couldn't compare to anything else.

Because this was Jill, the person with whom he shared one lifeline.

She hugged him tighter, and despite her soft, nude body pressing against the side of his, tempting him feel the curves that assaulted his dreams and imagination, Chris managed to pull one arm away from her waist and raise her chin with a finger. "You okay?"

She nodded, her blue eyes bright in the midst of darkness like the moon's reflection on a still ocean in the night. "Yeah, still a bit cold though."

"A bit" was an understatement. Even with the blanket, it felt like he was trying to subsist in the subzero chill. Whether her statement was trying to prompt him to take some sort of initiative or not did not matter. All he knew was that he didn't feel right about having her suffer the same way he did.

Before he could peel away the fabric over his chest, she touched his shoulder, her frown indicating her dissent. "I have a better idea, if you don't mind…"

He did not say anything, just watched her legs tuck beneath her weight before she sat on her heels to rearrange the blanket. Keeping herself wrapped in half the portion, she told him to slip the other half behind his back and then draw the end over both of them after she seated herself on his lap. It was quite a simple and efficient plan to generate the maximum amount of heat, and so he tried to focus only on the effectiveness of the idea, as difficult as it was.

Chris winced at the sudden slap of embarrassment when the side of her thigh brushed against the bulge between his legs, causing it to stiffen even more uncomfortably against his boxers. It was impossible for her to not have noticed what she bumped into, but instead of shifting away for personal space, her leg remained fixed beside his groin.

"Aren't you lucky that you got stuck with me instead of one of the guys tonight? Can you just imagine Forest sitting on your lap right now?"

She was just as good at destroying the mood as she was at creating it. His eyebrows converged, shadowing narrowed eyes. "That's a weird thing to think about with you on my lap."

"Why is that?" she teased with a soft, impish laughter.

Did she even need to ask? Clearly, she was just toying with him now. "Come on Jill. You can't possibly be unaware of the effect you have on men."

Strands of wet hair slid against his collarbone as she pressed his ear against his heart to hear its restless vibrations. Of course she was aware, just like how she was probably secretly enjoying the state she had put him in right now. There was no doubt she acknowledged what his body sought to get, and instead of ending his desires in one way or another, it appeared she was almost determined to see him flail at her mercy.

"On you…too?" she asked hesitantly, looking up with her mesmerizing irises shining like glistening ice water.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he immediately replied in place of what he really thought about her in the three months they worked together.

The guilt caused by his lie speared him when he saw disappointment lingering in her gaze. Before he could consider rectifying his answer, Jill pushed herself back and shook her head disapprovingly. "You're dense, you know that?"

Even though that was what he wanted her to believe, a rush of heat still circulated through his body and bolstered his annoyance. He was caught between affirming her accusation to make things easier and speaking his mind to let the truth defend his reluctance. Things were so less complicated three months ago. While Jill's qualifications were impressive, their skills, trainings, and personalities had constantly clashed. If he had known she was this promiscuous outside of work, he would have gotten her to see that there was only one thing they agreed on—that they wanted each other outside of combat and in bed, and made better friends with benefits than comrades. Such encounters wouldn't have destroyed anything but their contention, but time had slowly taught them to overlook the attributes on the surface and search harder for the ones that could not be seen but only experienced.

"I'm not!" he shot back, and then remembered with whom he should really be angry. The frustration escaped with a long sigh. He pulled her closer, inhaling the strong whiff of wild flowers and fresh rain in her hair. "I'm just afraid I'll hurt you and our partnership…now that we can actually call it one."

It was hard to believe that his hands had gone from gripping the steering wheel to cradling her with only a thin sheet of fleece separating the union of their bare skin. As perverse as their intimacy may seem, his personal feelings were untainted.

Jill scowled, her body soaking up more tension. She obviously missed the intention of his words and twisted them into something ugly in her head. "I'm tired of hearing that, Chris. I can take whatever you dish out."

He had not meant to make her feel inferior, fragile, when she was supposed to be just as proficient as he was, if not more. But was it so wrong for him to feel protective? Not because of her gender and stature, but because he had grown to genuinely care and appreciate the many facets that made up this tremendous woman.

The anger was blinked away, but the embers in her eyes remained to implore him to understand where she was coming from and take a leap of faith. He did not stop to think, to ponder about consequences and regrets and where one kiss would lead to in the next moment, minute, hour, tomorrow and beyond. One second of hesitation would magnify the fear and uncertainty guiding his impulse, destroy the simple contact that would produce the truth he was nervous to confirm, accept. His spiraling frustration and aggression clashed, delivering an eruption that burst through his chest, warping the sound of a steady exhalation into a breathless gasp that was all too quickly sealed by their lips. Darkness pierced his vision, and he felt like he was plunging toward a bottomless stretch of black. The destination he sought did not emerge until she met him halfway, remaining true to her promise. Her body tightened in his arms as she exerted her weight against him, her arms curling around his neck to draw herself closer, her mouth stealing all the air he had forgotten to inhale.

"Chris…"

That one syllable, weaved into the cyclone of her sigh, would not stop reverberating in his ears. His own name, whispered in a state of such heightened lust, sounded foreign to him, but he knew he wanted to hear it again, over and over and over.

The tip of her tongue cautiously brushed across his bottom lip, seeking permission to steer the kiss in a new direction. He touched her cheek, and her long, dark lashes lifted to reveal excitement and hesitance in her eyes. His first thought was to apologize for acting without consideration for her, but she raised a finger to his lips and smiled. "I-I know what you want, Chris."

And he wanted to tell her that it wasn't the only thing he wanted and cared to get. But somehow, he knew she understood from the way she kissed him back, her body language making it loud and clear that she desired the same thing but feared the same miscommunication.

"But I knew you wouldn't make a move," she continued, stating the truth he never wanted to admit.

He did not reply, believing that she had all the answers already. They had only known each for three months, the same amount of time it took for some people to start a relationship and for the more spontaneous ones to get married. In that time, they had survived through perilous missions that were only found in novels, but the risk of damaging their relationship was more alarming than the danger that came with their career. He supposed he was more comfortable being closer to the menace that followed his job than people. Danger was guaranteed to be around, but people…not so much.

"It's not that I didn't want to," he said, feeling that if he were to say more, he'd only be repeating himself. Instead of going through a winding explanation, he thought it maybe it was finally time to take a chance, follow up on the first move Jill made.

The second contact of their lips surprisingly calmed him, but it was when she slipped her tongue inside his mouth, sharing his breath, that made his heartbeats echo like rattles of swords in a duel. Before Jill, all the kisses he had shared felt the same—fulfilling and empty at the same time. But with her, it was like dancing under a downpour after a year without rain, a blast of excitement awakening emotions he did not know existed inside him until now. Led by a hunger he felt too many times, his hands were drawn to the source of temptation, the fingers itching to unfold the blanket. In the midst of their tongues' playful and aggressive little war, her leg began to shift, and the weight on his lap evened out after she spread her knees on either side of his waist, straddling him. He could neither contain the grunts of frustration nor the force in his palms that pushed into her back, hard, locking her so tightly against him that he could feel every heave of her chest that was becoming less and less subtle.

Just when the need for air arose, she stole his breath again by releasing the blanket around her, exposing a sight that put his imagination to shame.

He would be a fool to not take the opportunity that was a bleak, unforeseen circumstance turned golden, but unlike how things were done in the past, it wasn't just about him this time. "You sure…?" He had to ask, because he had just hit a home run without even reaching first base. They didn't even have one date, had never held hands—they had bypassed all the 'little things' that perhaps really did mattered, as terribly clichéd as they were.

"Yeah…" Her whisper carried a smile that widened when she saw that he needed to make sure she was absolutely certain. "Don't you trust your partner?"

He did; he had come to trust her with his life, and it clicked at this moment that no amount of typical dates and the 'little things' could ever forge such a powerful bond of faith.

"Yes," he declared, his own smile forming, until she seized his mouth once more.

He had forgotten about the icy chill and crackling thunder, the element and strident noise overwhelmed by a completely different tempest brewing in the vehicle. Without the blanket in the way, he felt just how warm and moist her skin had grown, like an elevating fever still on the loose, blazing a trail over bumps and curves for his hands to follow. Gentle caresses and rougher squeezes turned breaths into sharp gasps he could never get tired of hearing.

His palms touched her neck. One remained to brace the back of her head while the other traveled downward, past her collarbone, to cup a breast that was soft and full and added a weight that was most satisfying to the touch. His thumb and index finger rolled over the nipple, letting it quickly harden before capturing it in a pincer-grip. The arch of her back disconnected the kiss while her knees reflexively clenched tighter against him. Veins of lightning charged through the night, brilliant ruptures of flashes slicing the darkness and illuminating the perspiration framing her face, the sheen of moisture over her chest like a light polish of oil. Her beauty was bathed in the ethereal radiance of one of her worst fears, but she seemed to have completely forgotten that a world existed outside the car.

He leaned forward, cornering her into the back of the driver's seat with a smirk he did not give her the chance to question about. The hand descended lower until the fingers reached the band of her underwear, and then to the damp part of the satin fabric between her legs.

"Look at you…" he whispered in her ear, his smile expanding with his pride and confidence.

Her breaths became much choppier when her hands shot out to grab his wrist. A spasm of apprehension pulsed with his heart at the thought he had done something wrong, but her smooth laughter reassured him that she was simply enjoying his initiation.

"And look at you," she whispered back when the laughter dissolved. The back of her fingers glided over his cheek. "I've never seen you this red."

He had not noticed the truth spoken in her statement, but was slowly beginning to sense just how cool her hand was against his face. Not giving her the chance to use this predicament to her advantage, he brought forth a distraction she could not fight. The mouth that was aching for her lips found them again, and was prepared for the raid of kisses and the overactive tongue that was all too eager to explore something foreign but inviting.

Just as his other hand fell between the valley of her breasts, Jill's grip on his wrist tightened, her hold becoming stronger each time she detected his thumb pressing harder into the wet fabric, her sticky discharge permeating through the material of her panties and reaching his skin. His thumb pushed deeper till it felt the swollen nub between the folds. A sharp whimper instantly shot out and grew louder when he added more pressure to the strokes that repeatedly drew circles. Her next action took him by surprise and made his heart beat to the rhythm of her erratic breathing. She pulled his hand into her underwear, and in just a few seconds, the callous parts of his palm were almost entirely saturated with her fluid. Restraining his own urges for the moment took all of his willpower to accomplish; he wanted to progress slowly, made sure she had reasons to scream his name.

He began to move his fingers, each digit groping for a patch of delicate skin before two parted the lips, granting entrance for the middle and index fingers. The insertions were gentle, growing a little forceful only when her grunts permitted them to be. Locked snugly between the warm, compressing muscles, the digits pumped back and forth, each thrust driving deeper into her till he discovered the spongy, dense area he was intent on finding, releasing droplets of her juices onto his hand.

The hand between her breasts cupped the left one, each finger greedily fighting to toy with the nipple before leading it toward his mouth to be confined between his lips and assailed by the tongue. Nibbling turned into sucking, and he found that he was completely fixated on experimenting what she liked and loved, what made her breathe and breathless.

"Chris…" She suddenly touched his arm, signaling him to stop. A smile formed on her lips, one that was as devious as the mischievous glint in her eye. "Hold on…"

Hands at his side, he watched her curiously as she pulled the lever by the door, lowering the back of the driver's seat. It gave her enough room to crawl toward the shotgun seat with the grace of a feline, her body nimbly twisting and arching and capturing his sight with the sensuous movements. She reached into the glove box and snatched something he could not see, but when she returned to his lap, he realized there could only be one item that was small enough to fit into the grasp of her hand.

She placed the condom in his palm before kneeling between his legs, her body sinking toward her knees, leaving only her bosom and head visible. Shirtless, he could not hide his attempts at steadying his breathing, his chest rising and falling like calm waves. Her slender arms reached for his abdomen, warm fingers tracing the muscles beneath them, from the sides, and then moving toward the center, stopping at the spread of the v-cut. Dark, long lashes fanned over eyes that were cast downward, at the lines of muscles converging right above the palpable bulk that stretched the fabric of the boxers. She laid her head sideways on his lap, her lips grazing his erection with each tiny struggle made to disrobe the last piece of clothing on him.

He would have never thought that sensations as familiar as the sight of his own face could feel so different, so prevailing to the point that it numbed him from feeling anything else. Pleasure was fired like a metal ball in a pinball machine, and sprung throughout his body with endless energy stimulated by the alternating motions of tongue, mouth, and hands. As his fingers curled around a thick lock of hair, all he could think about was how he wanted to be the only man she would share this intimacy with. It was a selfish thought, but picturing Jill wrapped in arms other than his suddenly plagued the core of his being with a level of envy he had never thought could be reached.

He was so lost in the haze of pleasure that he hardly felt the condom slipping from his hand, only realizing that it was no longer in his possession when her fingers smoothed it over his stiff member seized with the desperate urge to plunge inside her.

She grabbed his knees, using them to intentionally pull herself up slowly. It took so much self-control to restrain his impulses, but once he saw her waist, an all-encompassing, feral vigor exploded within him like dynamite, and his arms immediately flew around her back. With the twist of his torso, he laid her onto the seat and squirmed between her awkwardly splayed legs to pin her body down with his chest. She latched on to his shoulders, as if trying to soothe her astonishment and haul herself out of disorientation, but the pressure from her fingers was soon released when she found the ability to break through the look of shock on her face with a sly grin.

"I didn't know you had such an aggressive side out of combat, interesting..."

"There are a few things you don't know about me yet," he told her, trying to sound tamer than he felt.

She cupped his cheek and lowered his head till his nose bumped the tip of hers. "I'm willing to learn," she whispered, before surrendering to the force of his kiss, the thirst of his mouth.

It had never occurred to him just how much a kiss with intoxicating passion could express. It was a language that required neither words nor gestures; yet, its ability to speak truths and uncover pretenses was unrivaled. Levels of disgust and attraction could not be masked in the midst of a kiss, each one shared between two people as unique as a fingerprint. Happiness he was afraid to admit oozed from his heart when he realized that the kiss he shared with Jill could not be replicated. Nothing is guaranteed, but some things are more definite than others, and embedded deeply in his core was the certainty that this was one of those things.

His thumb slid under the waistband of her underwear and joined the other four fingers in slowly tugging the garment down her thighs and setting it with the heap of her discarded clothes. With nothing in the way, he slapped his palm against her crotch. She was so overly lubricated that her discharge began to stain the cushion beneath her and allowed for his fingers to glide easily over the slickness and locate the swollen clitoris with no effort. He began the massage in a circular rotation, gentle at first, and then rougher when she request for him to increase the speed by squeezing his biceps, hard. Her long legs lifted, allowing him the chance to properly arrange himself more comfortably before she wound them behind him and pushed into the muscles of his back, drawing his lower body ever so close to hers.

He found himself in the perfect position, and with a simple one word plea as an assurance that this was she wanted too, he pulled away the hand that was drenched in her fluid and gradually guided his shaft into her. He immediately felt the warm, wet walls lock around him in a vise-like grip, clamping him tighter the deeper he went. He stopped when he could advance no further, and when he pulled back only to add momentum to his next thrusts, scorching, violent shivers sent ripples of electrifying pleasure throughout him.

Though impossible, in his mind, the acoustics of the car seemed to have changed upon hearing the resonance of Jill's gasps, her single voice more distinct than the flight of a thousand angry raindrops ending at the windowpanes. The only sounds more arousing than her moans of satisfaction were her begs, her demands that he was more than capable and willing to fulfill.

His arms linked around her back to provide support for her body when he increased his speed, charged his pumps with strength as wild as his lust. His mind was thrown into a mad frenzy—the sound of their skin slapping against each other, the thick, lingering smell of sex and sweat, the tireless cries and pants that made her sound uncharacteristically vulnerable when her body fell limp in his embrace, the way her chest trembled with each of his rough plunge, how sore his mouth was from crushing her lips to share the most exhilarating kiss he could imagine—he was completely delirious and dizzy, lost in one of his darker fantasies he could not remember why he had been so hesitant on pursuing.

Without a warning, he suddenly straightened himself a seating position and brought her on to his lap. She yelped in surprise at first, but then laughed at the pleasant change and straddled him, arching backward slightly in the space between the two front seats.

"Be careful," he whispered, nodding to the ceiling of the car.

With Jill on top of him, targeting her G-spot was an effortless feat since he had already found it earlier with his fingers and was now aligned with it. He knew he had stimulated it right away from the way her face contorted—her lower lip curling between her teeth, her head tossed back, eyes closing to focus on riding him with the support of his arms at her waist. Despite the limited room, she was very adept, her muscles convulsing against his erection and cinching it tighter each time she raised her hips to feel his deepest penetration.

"God, Chris…" she sighed out, grabbing his forearms as she rocked with him till she crashed into him from exhaustion.

Her arms hooked around his neck to pull his face to hers. She silenced his groans by sweeping her tongue in his mouth, her teeth gently nibbling his lip as he continued hammering into her with heightened haste to make up for the energy she lacked. Her breasts bounced against his chest with every powerful jerk, and he found that he could not resist fondling them. Securing her back with one arm, his free hand captured her right breast in a taut clasp, the fingers kneading the soft flesh he always stared at when he thought she wasn't looking.

"C-Chris," she warned, tension suddenly seizing her spine before he felt the rest of her body stiffen. "Please…"

Knowing that she was nearing her climax fueled his excitement and vigor. His body strained to keep up with the new breakneck tempo, but feeling Jill helplessly writhe made him almost immune to the fatigue that would soon come. He reflexively hugged her tighter to stabilize her tremors and to let her know that he was not too far behind.

He felt it just as he heard her scream—tired as she was, she somehow found the stamina that matched his and complemented his pushes with her own, and just like how he hadn't shown her any mercy, she grinded against him relentlessly. Dangerously close to coming, he was about to stifle a grunt when a cry choked with bliss and relief ripped through the car and rang in his mind like a cymbal. The vibrations of the light spasms struck him as he continued to propel deeply inside her, the head of his penis driving through a fresh expulsion of thick, hot juices. Finally giving in, his vision briefly turned as dark as the night outside when a turbulent wave of pleasure impaled him, pulsing as dynamically as his heart as he released inside her. Chris groaned, his body shuddering and growing weak with each throb beating inside her warm, moist passage until he finally pulled out of her, unplugging a thick stream of discharge that leaked down their thighs.

Spent but satisfied, she flashed him a grin that concurred with his thoughts before collapsing onto his chest, laying her head on his shoulder. "How about somewhere drier next time?"

Their friendship was not going to be the same after tonight; and when he smiled back, he couldn't help but hope that she was also interested in exploring where their relationship may go.

He chuckled and kissed her forehead. "Count me in."

* * *

><p>AN: I'm still not quite satisfied with this story, even after all the time I spent on editing it (so much to the point that my Backspace key fell off, lol), but I hope it was at least somewhat enjoyable for you guys. I'm not sure if a lot of people see Jill as the bold type, but between her and Chris, I think Jill is more likely to make the first move; hence, she's sort of the wild child here. As always, thank you for reading!


End file.
